I Would Mind
by Lina6
Summary: I wasn't instantly smitten with James. Everyone expects me to be, though I haven't the faintest idea why. If you'd thought poorly of someone for three years, you wouldn't instantly change your mind, either.
1. Once Upon A Time

Dear James,  
  
Once upon a time . . . I know you still don't get that reference, so for the billionth time: that's how Muggles start their fairy tales. Only they usually don't have any fairies, since the stories are usually about a princess or something, but humour me here.  
  
So. Once upon a time . . . once upon a time, a girl named Christine told me who you were. Do you even remember her? Taller than me, dark hair, and slightly plump? You had a crush on her for the first few months of first year, or so she said. I don't know why, because she wasn't very nice. I shouldn't even comment on your choice in people, though, because Christine was my constant acquaintance during those first few months. She was a pureblood, she knew everyone, and so despite the fact that she often made me want to curl up and die, I hung out with her. We walked into the Great Hall one day for breakfast and she spotted you standing up and talking to some friends. "Oh, I'm so glad he's not too broken up over it," she commented, knowing that I would ask her who she meant. I did, and she replied innocently, "Don't you know? James Potter - one of the pureblood Potters. I met him at a friend's house over the summer, and he was very nice, but the poor boy was absolutely in love with me. He asked me over one day and wound up cooking me a seven-course meal while he pledged his undying devotion. I didn't want to hurt his feelings, of course, but really, I couldn't just lead him on like that. It may have caused him some heartache at the time, but truly, turning him down was the kind thing to do." By this time, I was getting more than slightly annoyed with Christine. She was cruel, she was narrowminded, and she constantly spoke of the many boys that were apparently obsessed with her. I couldn't understand why so many boys would be in love with her, because in secret I thought myself to be much prettier than she was, but I didn't want to offend anyone, so I kept my thoughts to myself. But when she told me of yet another idiotic male that had been in love with her, he won my undying scorn. James Potter went on my list of people to avoid.   
  
And I avoided him well. I'm good at that, you know. The fact that he was also in Gryffindor was of mild importance, because there were plenty of other ways to occupy my time than by dealing with James Potter, that horrible specimen of the male sex. He showed up in my Arithmancy class one day at the beginning of third year. Did you know that? I bet you don't remember - he came to one class and never returned. "Couldn't handle the workload," I scoffed. This is making me sound as though I was a James-obsessive, but I wasn't, you know. I didn't hang out with Christine anymore; I had found real best friends. I had discovered an aptitude for Charms, an ability to do a split, and the fact that I loved to sing. I was also becoming fast friends with Sirius Black, who sat behind me in Arithmancy and quickly caught my attention when, on the first day of class, he tugged on my ponytail and whispered, "Hey, Snapdragon." I wasn't used to having boy friends. Actually, I hadn't had any boyfriends yet, either, but the immense potential that radiated from my friendship with Sirius impressed me more than the idea of a boyfriend.   
  
My relationship with Sirius faded when I had a bit of a fling with a sixth-year Ravenclaw. It was a bad idea, I know, but I am fully convinced that it was more out of curiosity than true emotion. Of course, everyone knew about it, and Christine and her gang spread malevolent rumours, usually just saying, "Did you hear? Lily is sleeping with Mike!" But that's not important. What's important is that after I realized that I really didn't like Mike, I went back to hanging out with Sirius after Christmas holidays were over. Arithmancy had ended, but luck was on my side when I walked in to the first class of Care of Magical Creatures and saw Sirius sitting in the back row. I sat down in front of him, turned, and realized that he was sitting next to the infamous James Potter. My smile faded and I turned back around. "Hey, Snapdragon!" Sirius exclaimed, "This is James. He's cool." I wasn't instantly smitten with James. Everyone expects me to be, though I haven't the faintest idea why. If you'd thought poorly of someone for three years, you wouldn't instantly change your mind, either. I actually thought he was a bit of a dork. I had a soft spot for dorks, though, and I admitted in my heart of hearts that I liked his smile and that his messy hair was remarkably endearing. Hanging out with Sirius soon turned into hanging out with Sirius and James. Suddenly, instead of having one boy friend, I had two. Somewhere around Valentine's Day I allowed myself to realize that I wouldn't mind at all if James sent me a Valentine. He didn't, of course, but that realization gave me the courage to completely stop ignoring James and utterly throw myself at him. It took him a while to understand. Sirius tells me now that James spent months agonizing over approaching me about something more than friendship, so while James may have really just been being mildly cautious, I thought he was being a dolt. Dolts and dorks go together in my mind, or couldn't you tell already? I was walking to Divination one day - I remember that was the day that we were having tests on reading the crystal balls - and James slipped up beside me in the hallway. "Lily," he said quietly, the tone of his voice forcing me to stop skimming through my notes and look at him. I handed my notebook to my best friend Cat, who was equally nervous about the test, and I knew from the look in his gray eyes exactly what James was about to do. "James," I replied, "wouldn't you rather that Cat wasn't here for this?" "I don't care," he answered, "I'll say this in front of as many people as I need to. Lily, would you mind terribly if you were my girlfriend?" It was as though I was in a scene from a movie. I opened my mouth to answer, and before I could speak, Cat looked at her watch, gasped, "Oh, fuck!", and grabbed me by the arm, dragging me off to Divination. When we got there I slumped in my chair, barely pleased that Trelawney had "seen that the Orb is not ready for us". I hadn't answered James, and I wanted to, desperately, but I wasn't quite sure what to say. Or how to say it, for that matter. "Write him a note, of course," Cat suggested, "and I'll give it to him during Potions." Perfect. Cat sat right behind James during Potions, and I sat on the other side of the room, so I wouldn't be directly exposed to the results of my decision. "James," I scribbled in bright red ink, "I would not mind at all if I were your girlfriend." I signed my name in my messy script, folded the note, and handed it to Cat, warning her to guard it with her life. I didn't go to Potions that day. I was too nervous. I had Cat tell the teacher that I'd had a headache and had gone to lie down, when I'd really gone for a walk outside. I stayed outside until dinnertime, and when I walked into the Great Hall, I saw Sirius and James sitting in their usual spots. James looked happier than I'd ever seen him. When he saw me, his grin grew wider, and he walked up to me, and jokingly offered me his arm. "Shall we, milady?" I nodded, grinned, and accepted his arm. And that was that. We were a couple. We sat together at meals, during classes, and at night in the Common Room. Other people commented to me on what a cute couple James and I made. I couldn't have been happier, and even my best friends got sick of my constant James-obsession.  
  
I still can't be happier, and my best friends are still sick of me. Well, all but one of them. That one is you, James. You are my best friend and the love of my life. I know you thought I forgot that today was one year. I know I'm horrible with dates and directions, James, but honestly, you should have more faith in me than that! Truly though, I don't care if you think I can remember a date or not. Because I always will remember that day you asked me if I'd mind. And when I accepted, I knew that what I was really saying was, "Yes, I'd mind. I'd mind you. I'd care for you. I will love you, James. I know I will now and I know I always will." One year later, I've heard all the possible remarks about being one half of a cute couple. I've listened to entirely too many wordplays on Sirius' name. I've played a million games of Exploding Snap, I've written a thousand essays, and I've eaten entirely too many Chocolate Frogs. But what I will never tire of, James, is you.   
  
I love you.  
- Lily 


	2. Of Course, I Can't Sing

A/N: I actually wasn't planning on writing another one of these. What can I say, I'm a sucker for nice reviews. Especially the ones from mooncancer, btwonbabe, Amethyst, Quack Quack 88, sundaybee, HermioneG, KV, Shree, centaur30, Cyberwolf (heehee. Your review just made me smile. Obviously they all did, but if I have to twist around people's thoughts, I'd like to be doing what you said I did. It's rather a nice feeling, I must say!), AvrilLavigneRocks, Marauder chick (heh I love your name), and Scarlett*eyes. Heehee, I feel so accomplished to be thanking my reviewers. It's exciting. Right, so, anyway - in case you hadn't noticed, I've got a bit of an obsession with James/Lily stories. (Gee, could it be that I'm in love with the lovable three-fourths of the Marauders? No, no, I don't think it's entirely that . . . ) You guys keep telling me to continue with it, so I'm warning you: keep telling me to do so, and I will, but it'll be utterly plotless and very fluffy. Then again, we all need some fluff once in a while . . . ah well. We shall see.  
  
Lils -   
  
I don't know what to say. Big surprise, I'm sure. I feel like there aren't enough words to say what I want to say. After a year of rolling my eyes at you when you get completely enraptured by a piece of music, I think I finally understand what it's like to not have the words to express emotions.   
  
Of course, I can't sing anymore than I can tapdance. So that means I'm stuck with words, which I'll try not to mangle too badly. After all, we can't all be poetic - if that happened, who would read all the poetry? Not me, that's who.  
  
Right. Anyway.   
  
(I told you I didn't know how to write this!)  
  
Did you know that you're the only one that still calls me James? Besides my parents, of course, but they don't count. One of my grandmothers calls me Jamesie. (Don't go getting any ideas!) Whenever she sees me she'll grab onto my shoulder and say, "How's my little Jamesie?" You always think that grandmothers never really do that and that it's only in stories that people get pinched on the cheeks, but that means you've obviously never met my grandmother. She looks like a really nice, sweet, little old lady, but she's NOT. I'm warning you. That woman is a dragon that just happens to wear a hearing aid. Anyway. The point was that you're the only important one that calls me James. The other guys all call me Prongs, or some horrible variation of it (I might add that I will never fully forgive you and Bella for suggesting "Prongsie-Poo" to Sirius. I may never hear the end of it.)  
  
For a while there, I was getting really sick of being Prongs. I mean, Prongs is a great nickname but at the end of the day it's still a nickname. I don't know, maybe I was afraid that the Prongs side would eat the James side. (No, I'm not schizophrenic, I'm trying to be deep, so stop laughing at me! I can tell you're laughing . . . okay, Lils, stop, it's really not that funny. Really.) But, see, now I'm actually glad that everyone else calls me Prongs.   
  
Do you remember - oh, who am I kidding, I know you remember, you just proved to me that you remember. That day when I said, "Lily," and you replied, "James." The sound of you saying my name was the most amazing thing I'd ever heard. It still is. And that's why I'm actually glad that they call me Prongs, because it makes James something special and reserved and . . . belonging solely to Lily.  
  
(Yeah, here comes the mush. You brought it on yourself, you know, so stop giving me that grin from over there in the corner. I can see you. And if you don't stop I'm going to put down my pen this instant and come over there and . . . well. You know.)  
  
Right.  
  
Okay.  
  
Anyway.  
  
God, I'm rambling. I tend to do that, don't I? Sirius used to be so incredibly horrible about it before I admitted how in love with you I was. He'd make me play word association games and within three words I would have replied with your name. Three words was actually a lot, usually, because just about anything would make me think of you. He tried all the obvious stuff first - red, green, charms (and yes, I meant not to capitalize that. It wasn't Charms, the class, it was charms, that ability you have to bewitch me), girl, pretty, love, flower - but even I was surprised at some of the things that would make me think of you. Once he used "thunder", and that made me think of you. You know why? Because thunder occurs during a thunderstorm, there is rain during a thunderstorm, and your laugh sounds like rain. See? From thunder to Lily in under .005 seconds. Let me think, what else . . . oh, I know there was a good one, but I can't remember what it was! Something about hearts. Heart monitor! That's it, it was a heart monitor. I think he'd been studying (for once in his life) for Muggle Studies, cause I can't imagine how he could have thought of a heart monitor otherwise. (Of course, I only knew what it was cause I'd read that chapter, but that's okay.) But you want to know how I got from "heart monitor" to you? Heart monitor = heart rate = my heart rate speeds up around Lily. See?  
  
I think I'm rambling again. It'd be cool if they made quills that would beep when you started rambling, wouldn't it? Well, I think so, anyway. Maybe it'll be something for the Marauders to look into.   
  
I guess I never really got to the mush.  
  
I'm going to do it now, in one big dose.  
  
Lily, I love you. I know you know that as well as I do, but it just seems like something more to put it down on paper. Hmm. I like it. I think I'll do it again. LILY, I LOVE YOU. It'd be nice if I could just keep writing that over and over again. I really don't think I could ever say it enough, and that's straight truth, Lily. I feel as though I should elaborate on that, otherwise this would be a pretty boring love letter, wouldn't it? I love you. The fact that you exist and that I have the honor of loving you makes me sure that, if we ever did find the Mirror of Erised (which I still say doesn't exist. Honestly, Lils, it's probably just a legend that got retold so many times that it became generally accepted as fact, like the Chamber of Secrets or something) I would look into it and see nothing but you and me together, forever and always. You are the first thing that I see in the mornings and the last thing that I see before I fall asleep and all I ever want to see for the rest of my life. Lily, you know that you're gorgeous and that I can never stop staring at you, but what infatuates me the most is your voice, because, as I said before, your laughter sounds like rain. I don't think people ever really know how they sound to other people, but I can guarantee you that if I was completely blind I would still have fallen desperately in love with you. Anyone would. I'm utterly serious, too. Your voice sounds like honey and raindrops and bells all mixed together with cinnamon, and I realize that cinnamon and honey have no real sound but when you think about it, they do. Now that I reread that the logical part of my mind (which is slowly slipping away) is telling me that what I've just written makes no sense but I have a feeling that you will understand perfectly, because, truly, Lily, I think you're my soulmate. Actually, no, that's not true.  
  
I know you're my soulmate. Not only do I love you, but you're my best friend, too. You know me better than anyone ever has before and you're the only one I'll ever want to know me in such a way. Lily, you make my heart race and the sound of your laughter is a lullaby in itself and I'm not even going to get into your hair because I know that if I do I'll never be able to stop writing this and do what I truly want to do at the moment, which is go over there to your corner and knock away those pillows that you've barracaded yourself with and just hold you. I could do that from now until eternity, Lily.  
  
You call me James, and that in itself is enough. And I'm going to let you in on a little secret: everytime I say "Lily" or "Lils", what I'm really saying is "Lily, I adore you. Everytime you smile I tell myself that you're smiling for me and because of me, and I would say that when you laugh but by that point my brain is usually mush merely because of how much I adore you." See, it takes too long to say all of that, so the most I can ever really get out is "Lily" because after those two syllables I lose most of my coherent thought ability.  
  
There. Mine was longer. (Well, it took up more parchment) That means you're forced to write back. I've never really written serious letters before, and I must say, you're considerably less distracting when you're on the other side of the room. Not too much less distracting though, because by now I just have to stop and go over there, and so until you respond, dear Lily, this is it.  
  
All my love,  
  
James 


End file.
